My Little Blue Boy
by MonPetitTresor
Summary: When Tony comes stumbling out of his room, he finds himself quite a surprise in front of his door...


This had to be some kind of trick. That was all Tony could think as he stared down at the little bassinette sitting on the ground right outside his bedroom door. This was some sort of really bad, really twisted trick. A joke played by someone with no sense of humor. People cracked jokes all the time about his past indiscretions and whether or not he had a kid or two out there. But Tony was pretty damn sure it was physically impossible for him to have a kid now after all the things the pallidum had done to his system. Even if it _were_ possible, he was absolutely, one-hundred percent sure that he hadn't ever slept with anyone who looked like _that._

The baby was… blue.

Not just, 'oh shit they're cold, their lips are turning blue.' No, this was like… full on _smurf_ blue.

Tony stared down at the baby as it stared back up at him with the most intense red eyes he'd ever seen. It felt like they were studying him with far more intensity than someone that little should be. He had no idea how old the kid was. Small enough to fit into a bassinette.

That bassinette was something else entirely, too. It was made of wood and looked like it was hand-carved with a ton of symbols Tony felt almost like he should recognize and yet didn't. His brain was too stuck to be able to really give it the proper attention. Almost all his focus was on the baby wrapped up in dark green blanket.

"JARVIS," Tony spoke for the first time since he'd opened his door. "Am I still asleep? Or drunk? Is there a chance I'm still drunk?"

"You are quite awake, sir, and haven't ingested any alcoholic beverages in the past forty-two hours," JARVIS answered promptly.

"There's a baby."

Tony didn't phrase it as a question. Though there was a part of him that was hoping JARVIS would tell him there was nothing there, and then Tony would go and find a discreet doctor who could scan his brain and tell him why he was hallucinating _little blue babies_ outside his bedroom door.

Unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky.

"Yes, sir. It appeared twenty-two seconds before you reached your door."

Oh. Well then. Tony blinked his eyes a few times and continued to stare at the kid. Then JARVIS's words kicked in, and Tony felt his eyes go wide. "It _appeared_?"

"Indeed, sir. I'm detecting faint magical traces in the air as well that resemble the readings you've taken in the field for Loki."

Loki. _Loki_. Tony tried not to groan. Of-fucking-course this had something to do with Loki. Who _else_ in his life was going to leave a kid on his doorstep? "Son of a bitch." So it _was_ a trick. One done by that sneaky, conniving little shit of a trickster who apparently thought it was _funny_ to send a _baby_ to Tony of all people! He was probably sitting around here somewhere laughing his ass off at stupid Tony squatting down and staring at a baby like it was the most alien thing in the world – and not even because of how it looked. "Fucking Loki. What the hell is that little shit thinking, sending a _baby_? J, tell me it's an illusion. Please, I swear to God, this had better be some messed up illusion he's set up here."

As if the baby heard his demand, it's little face scrunched up, that tiny nose wrinkled – and then it started to wail.

Tony's panic hit him almost full-force. Trick or not, he couldn't help his reaction. He had no idea what to do with a crying baby! Even before he could think about it, he found his hands fluttering all around the baby without actually touching it, which didn't seem to do anything but make the baby cry more and send Tony's panic even higher. "JARVIS! What do I do? What do I do?"

"I believe it would calm if you pick it up."

Could he do that? Tony wasn't sure if he could do that. Weren't babies like, fragile? He thought he remembered hearing something about how you had to hold them a certain way or they could _break_ or something like that. What if it was a real baby and he _broke it_?

The baby wailed even harder, and one of its little arms broke free of the blanket to wave angrily at him, as if furious it wasn't having its demands met, and Tony swore roundly and reached forward. He could do this. He could totally do this. He was an engineer, for god's sake! He handled delicate things all the time! A baby shouldn't be that different.

Tony wasn't entirely sure the baby wasn't an illusion, or that it wouldn't simply fade away the instant he touched it. Not until the moment he slipped his hands under the – wow, _really cold_ – blanket and awkwardly lifted the sobbing child up into his arms. Damn, those blankets were cold! He drew the baby in and brought it close, hoping he wasn't screwing up, or that he could figure out how the hell to make it stop crying!

"Might I suggest tucking its head into the crook of your arm, sir? Children this small have not developed the muscular strength to be able to support their own heads quite yet."

"When did you become Super Nanny?" Tony demanded. He shifted the baby, though, settling its head on his arm, and oh, yeah, that was a whole lot more comfortable.

The response from his AI was pure, unadulterated _sass_ and Tony very much did not remember programming that into him! (he did) "I Google'd it, I believe is the correct term."

Great. Tony was holding a tiny, sobbing little baby, and being sassed by his own creation. Could this day get any better?

There was nothing he could do about JARVIS. Snarky bastard that he was, Tony loved him, and he wouldn't change him for the world. So instead, the engineer focused on the more pressing problem at hand – the baby still sobbing in his arms.

How hard could it be to get a baby to stop crying? People in movies did it all the time! If they could manage it, Tony sure as hell could, right? Somehow, he didn't feel anywhere _near_ that confident. But he couldn't continue to just stand here as the baby screamed in his arms. Tony drew in a steadying breath and then set about trying to mimic what he'd seen mothers and fathers do in movies and on TV. Ever so lightly, he bounced, just a slight jostle to his arms, and he swayed a little from side to side as he did. At the same time, he began to speak in a low, easy voice. "Shh, shh, shh, you're all right, tidbit. You're okay. I've got absolutely no idea what's going on, but we'll figure it out, yeah? We'll take care of it. I just need you to shhhh."

To Tony's absolute shock, something he was doing must've been right, because the little bundle in his arms slowly began to calm down. Sobs faded away to soft cries that eventually melted down to sniffles. Big red eyes blinked up at him. There was something about that watery look that reached in and wrapped around Tony's heart. He softened without even realizing it. "There you go, sweetheart. See, you're all right. You're okay now. We're gonna figure out what's going on, isn't that right?"

"Might I suggest heading back into the bedroom, sir?" JARVIS spoke up, voice a bit lower than normal in obvious deference to the now calm child. "Perhaps the bassinet will hold some answers."

That sounded like a smart plan. Tony wasn't entirely confident of his ability to hold the baby and bend down to pick up the basket, so he used his foot to nudge it into the room. Once he had it near the bed, he sat down on the edge of the bed and adjusted the baby a little more into the crook of his arm. He was surprised that those red eyes just seemed to be watching him intently instead of starting to tear up again. Not that he was complaining. Hell, he'd take being stared at over the crying any day of the week!

"All right, small fry, we're gonna try and get this thing up here. Hopefully, it's got a clue in it somewhere, cause let me tell you, I've got no idea what the hell is going on here. It's not like you can give me any answers, am I right? Maybe whoever or whatever left you here with me also left some kind of hint of what's going on or why they left you with _me_."

Tony kept up his steady stream of babble as he tightened his grip with one arm and reached out with his other to catch the bassinette and pull it up onto the bed. Twisting himself allowed for him to look a little more clearly at the inside. The baby only looked briefly before turning its focus back to Tony.

There were a few more blankets that Tony found, and what felt like a soft sort of pillow-like mattress at the bottom. Nothing at all that – ah! Tony's hand closed around something that felt like paper. He pulled it out with a triumphant "Ah ha!"

That triumph didn't last long.

The paper was a note. A note that was written in a style almost like calligraphy. What it said was nothing at all like what Tony had been expecting.

 _Stark,_

 _I imagine that you have many questions, but I have not the time to answer them all. In fact, I find I have very little time at all in which to write this._

 _In a recent fight against a sorceress, I found myself cursed. The curse inside my body is like nothing I have seen before, and all of my research has led me to only one solution. I assure you, it is the only possible solution that does not end in my death. While I am not thrilled by this, I do not wish to die. And so I am left to do something quite desperate._

 _The curse placed upon me was meant to age a being to the point of death. From my understanding, it's meant to work on mortals, not on ones with the life expectancy that my kind have. Nor did it account for my own magic. However, there is no doubt that it is aging my body. Already I feel the effects. If I wait much longer, there is every chance it will burn me out and potentially succeed in killing me._

 _To counter the effects, I plan to cast a spell over my body to age me back to a newborn babe and wipe my memories. If I am correct, the curse will still be there, and it will likely cause me to age quickly. But it should burn out by the time my body reaches its rightful age, at which point my own spell with wear off and my memories of my past will return. How long this may take, I am unsure. As little as a month, to as much as a year._

 _You are likely wondering why you are the one to be reading this. I assure you, I contemplated multiple choices in guardians before settling on you. While there is no love lost between us, there has never been true hate. That is what I am counting on now. I can at least have faith in the fact that you are not the type of person to let a child come to harm, no matter who they might be. You also have the might and means to protect anyone under your care. More than that, you are the only one that Thor said even entertained the idea of understanding my position in the attack against your planet._

 _If you do this, I will owe you a debt far greater than I can repay. I sincerely hope I have not placed my faith in the wrong man._

 _Loki_

The world felt like it froze to a halt around Tony. He read the letter, then read it again, and then one more time for good measure. When he finished it that final time, he let his eyes drop down to the baby gurgling happily in the crook of his arm. One little hand had come up and was waving at him.

This… this had to be a joke. Some sort of joke. Because there was no way in hell that _anyone_ in their right mind would put Tony in charge of a baby. _Who says Loki's in his right mind?_ Tony snorted a little at that thought. He sobered up quickly as he looked back down at the tiny life in his arms, though. If the letter was telling the truth – and they couldn't quite be sure, what with it being _Loki_ and all – it meant that this was a tiny, infant _Loki_ he was holding, who was weak and vulnerable right now. There would undoubtedly be countless beings out there who'd love nothing more than to get their hands on him. Hell, _SHIELD_ would love to get their hands on him.

No, no, no, _no_ , Tony was _not_ going to sit here and start feeling sorry for this guy. Or, well, _sorrier_ than he usually did.

Against his will, Tony found himself thinking of all the things he'd learned about Loki since the invasion. Thor had told them when he'd come back about how Loki had been coerced into invading earth. He hadn't been mind-controlled the way he'd controlled Clint, no, but torture was a powerful motivator. Tony knew that better than most. Add in that they'd threatened his _kids_ – it seemed that Thanos had pointed out how powerful it would be, how much _meaning_ Lady Death might find in the deaths of such beings, beings who were foretold to bring about _Ragnarok_. Well, was it really any wonder that Loki had cooperated?

There were other things, too, little things that Tony picked up here and there in conversation. Loki was adopted. Born of a race that all of Asgard seemed to hate on principle. He was also, as Thor explained once while _very_ drunk, constantly considered _weak_ for his use of magic and trickery instead of 'honest' fighting like Thor did.

All of those things pieced together to paint an ugly picture. One that had made Tony feel more sympathetic than he liked to admit to. He found himself drawing one too many parallels between him and the God of Mischief. Both raised in a home where they were made to feel constantly like they would never measure up to someone bigger, someone _better_. Loved by their mothers while feeling _tolerated_ – at best – by their fathers. Picked on and ridiculed for being smart instead of strong.

Yeah, there were too many ways that Tony felt like he could relate to the outcast trickster. So maybe he _did_ feel sorry for him. Sorry enough that he couldn't bring himself to just hand Loki over to people he knew would have no qualms in doing whatever necessary to get any information out of him that they could. SHIELD would turn Loki into a science experiment. Tony couldn't… he couldn't condemn _any_ child to that.

Well, that was just _great_. Tony let out a gusty sigh and brought his focus back to the still-quiet Loki. All things considered, he was a pretty quiet baby. Were babies usually this quiet?

"Sir?"

Tony blinked his eyes a few times to clear them. He'd gotten so lost in thought he'd forgotten about JARVIS, who was probably waiting to hear what the letter had said.

Something like this seemed like the kind of thing that should be well thought out. Accepting the responsibility of a baby, that was _huge_. Enormous. Tony was _Iron Man_ , for fuck's sake! He was _Tony Stark!_ How the hell was he supposed to care for a baby?

Yet, as Loki's little fist waved at him, and those red eyes avidly watched Tony's face without any of the animosity Loki usually wore, or the cold indifference, there really wasn't any choice at all.

"Fire of the workshop, J," Tony said, pushing himself to his feet and carefully cradling Loki against him as he did. "Get the scanners up and going, too." The first thing Tony needed to do was run a quick, painless scan over baby-Loki to see if anything about him matched up with the information Tony had from his scans of adult-Loki. If they matched, well…

… it looked like Tony was going to have to do some shopping.

What kind of stuff did a baby need, anyway?

* * *

 _If you guys like this enough, I might come back to this very soon and start adding either chapters, or stories. Maybe make a series? Or just one long story? Let me know what you think!_


End file.
